


Paper Moon

by Appleskin



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe - Urban Fantasy, Demonstuck, Humanstuck, M/M, Magic, Makara family, more to be added as I figure out where this story is going, poor life choices that miraculously work out alright
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-07
Updated: 2016-02-17
Packaged: 2018-04-30 09:39:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,872
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5158994
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Appleskin/pseuds/Appleskin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Wherein Gamzee makes shitty choices, Kurloz is done with his brother's shit, the Grand Highblood is strongly regretting having children, and Karkat just wants to go the fuck home.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Some bitching witching to get down with

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It seemed like a good idea at the time

The air is thick and sweet with incense, the moon full and bright through the big open window in front of him, and dozens of black candles cast flickering, dancing shadows along the walls and ceiling. The ipod in the corner plays soft sounds, drums and chanting and falling rain.

Shits all up and making itself like in the movies, and Gamzee figures no motherfucker ever got his look on at a sight so fit for some wicked craft as he got himself set up right here. It’s the motherfucking witchin hour, and he got some bitchin witchin to get down with.

Woah. Gonna have to remember that one for later, could get a sick rhyme going off that.

For right now, though, the task all up and on hand is of fucking paramount, seeing as how Gamzee’s got this bitchtits setup and all the fixins for a ritual and only maybe about fifteen minutes ‘till Kurloz gets to wondering where he disappeared to and comes looking. Best to get this shit done quick then.

The book is old as fuck and all creaky like when he opens it up, spine all cracking and pages all yellow and aged. Ain’t even the most littlest bit faded, though. Words still all making themselves real bright and clear and easy to read. Real fuckin weird, too, since they ain’t in any language Gamzee knows.

Aint any kind of magic he ever got to seeing before. Sure, his dads has got some real old stuff he and Kurloz are _expressly motherfucking prohibited_ from touching, but the book feels even older than that stuff, old and sharp and all bright with promise, and hell. If it weren’t made for reading, it wouldn’t make itself so easy to get read, right?

Right. Least that’s what he figures.

The words taste real weird when he says ‘em. Thick, kinda. Heavy. Invocations and all fucking politeness and respect and shit. Some bits as he figures are supposed to be him introducing himself, but that ain’t a thing like how he talks and he feels like he’s giving whoevers listening the wrong impression.

The offerings come next. Most of the book talked about blood, but Gamzee ain’t fond of shit like that. Maybe creeping up on a downright phobia is closer to what he’s doing. But there was one fucker in the book who seemed to maybe like blood and guts and shit even less than he himself gets to doing, and the things the pages said he did like were easy as hell. Gamzee figures the old romance novel he got from the used bookstore downtown and the wine he nicked from his dad’s cabinet oughta be good enough. The little hermit crab and his little glass container were the only real expensive bits, but no more’n a couple weeks allowance.

Gamzee gets them all set in the places the book says to put ‘em and goes back to saying words, all careful to say ‘em right and clear. Lot of fucking words to say, damn. And then he finishes the words and tips a candle over into the wineglass and sets the liquid on fire and shit gets all bright and shaky for a couple seconds.

Woah. The room spins, and all of a sudden the breeze from the window don’t do shit. Its hot, its too motherfuckin hot, he’s sweating and all the candles are going out one by one, the light all fading from the basement and leaving him in dark, he ain't ever liked the dark, shit, shit--

He almost leaves his circle, almost makes a mad dash for the light switch across the room, but a half-second before he gets to running the candles all relight themselves but brighter, bigger, and when they settle there’s another light, a red light, and the other circle has another motherfucker sitting it.

He… don’t look nothing like what Gamzee kinda though a demon would get to looking like. Fuckers kinda cute, actually, with them little horns and all. Don’t look so happy to be here though, got them glowy eyes all narrowed and his lip all curled and pissed-off like, showing a couple sharp little teeth. His arms are all crossed over his chest and he’s got a foot tap-tap-tapping at the edge of his circle like he got tons of other places to be getting to.

Aw, hell, didn’t figure a brother’d be busy or nothing. Guess he should have thought of that huh? He don’t get to do much more thinking on it though cause the red eyed brother getting his glow on across from him gets to talking, real fast and loud like.

“Well? What the fuck do you want, you douchebag, did you drag me up here just to stare like a freak with a fucking xeno kink? Take your gross sexual frustration to someone who cares. Like maybe, I don’t know, an actual fucking sex demon?”

He makes like he’s gonna keep going, opens his mouth to get at making more words and Gamzee cuts him off with “Woah now brother!” and he knows his face for being red like hell under the dark of his skin. “Naw man, ain’t like that, I don’t--uh. M’not looking for… that.” He gets out, kinda mumbled, and does a little foot-scuffling. The red motherfucker just sighs, all done-as-fuck with the conversation already.

“I don’t do murder. I don’t do riches. And regardless of whatever shitty text you used to summon me implied, I’m not gonna make somebody fall in love with you.”

“Naw, bro. I wasn’t gonna ask you for any of that shit either.”

That stops him up, and he blinks them glowy eyes a couple times real quick and then scowls again, but maybe a little bit less pissed than he were. Hard to tell.

“Well then what the shit do you want.” He growls out, sounds all frustrated as hell.

“... I guess nothing.” Gamzee says, and shrugs. The demon don’t seem happy with that answer, gets real salty and growly like, all puffed up kinda.

“Well then why the fuck did you summon me if you don’t fucking want anything?!”

“I found this book!” He grabs it up, all excited, and shows it to him. “Just showed up one day after I was headed home. Words ain’t even English and I can get to understanding ‘em just fine. Ain’t that some kinda miracle? Figured I oughta see this shit for myself.”

Red brother blinks. “... you… summoned a demon… for shits and giggles.”

“For fucking sure, brother.”

Motherfucker hits himself in the face at that. Twice.

"Oh my god. Do you have any fucking clue--no of course you don't, you fucking humans get shittier and stupider every goddamn day. I have literally met zombies more intelligent than some humans. And you, specifically, are the kind of shit-headed recklessly stupid asshole that humans make bad horror movies about and give us a bad name."

"Aw, brother that ain't fair."

"Are you serious?! You literally just told me you summoned me for fun. What if I had been a, a fucking wraith or something? God, you are so fucking lucky, holy shit, even though now I'm contemplating making your life a living hell just to teach you a lesson you dumb fucker."

"Luck ain't got much to do with it." Gamzee says, at the same second there's the sound of a door opening and feet on the stairs and shit, _shit he forgot about Kurloz_ \--

His brother comes pounding down into this basement like a one-motherfucker stampede, runs halfway into the room and then just glares. Gamzee shrinks down a little.

Kurloz only takes a second to check the situation, his eyes all getting narrower and narrower and his eyebrows all drawn and angry like.

He opens his mouth, and he don’t ever talk much but Gamzee can feel the yelling coming and he ain’t exactly looking forward to it.

“Who the fuck are you.”

That… makes sense. Ain’t what he expected, but. Kurloz is all making angry eyes at the red fucker, and the red fucker is making angry eyes right back. He looks all surprised too, don’t look like he was expecting somebody to get to askin’ him that. Well sure as shit Gamzee woulda if he’d had the chance, gotten proper introductions on and all since the book didn’t do ‘em so great, but hell. This works too.

“Who the fuck are you?”

“I asked you first, motherfucker.”

“... Karkat.” the Demon says, all slow. S’a cool name. Sharp.

“Gamzee, motherfucker!” Gamzee says, waving. Its funny as hell the way his bro and Karkat both turn to look at him, eyes all wide at the same time. He figures they couldn’t do that again so perfect if they tried.

“Did you just give your name to a demon.” Karkat gets all shouty again “Oh my fucking god, did you seriously just do that. You don’t fucking do that. That's like--”

“Nah bro, s’cool.” Gamzee cuts him off. “I got my bad self all protected like. Ain’t even a thing.”

The red motherfucker gets all blinky and kinda choked looking. He’s got a vein all glowy and pulsing at his temple. Trippy as fuck, blood all lit-up neon shining right through his skin, going da-dum da-dum da-dum with his heart.

“You got what.”  
“S’what I was saying earlier!” He digs at his neckline for the leather cord there, pulls his pendant out of his shirt. A goat’s eye preserved in glass, hanging in a wire hoop strung with beads attached to a smaller white gold disk with the family sign embossed on it. The beads are clear glass with little plant bits floating in ‘em, purple stones that glow just a little, black onyx polished shiny and carved with tiny sigils. “Whole family’s magic as fuck bro, real old-ass tradition. We’re like fucking hundredth generation or some shit, descendants of them secret mage motherfuckers.”

Kurloz comes walking over, leans on the wall behind where Gamzee’s standing and unzips his hoodie. His own pendant got some more stuff on it, little finger bones and shiny wire threads all braided and hanging under the beaded hoop, and some of his beads are actually teeth, stained black with ink and ashes, carved with all the same little symbols Gamzee’s got on his.

Kurloz got his hand on too, the old one dad gave him as a present a couple years ago. Genuine fucking human hand bones, bleached white and spelled to keep ‘em strong so they don’t break, wired together with metal rings put through ‘em so you can wear it on your own hand, attached at the wrist and fingers, and maybe it’s cause they’re so close to a dark entity and all, but the magic on the bones and their family charms seems stronger, louder. It's weird as hell.

Karkats all staring open-mouthed like he can’t even fucking believe what he’s seeing, them red eyes kinda dulled with shock. Face is motherfucking hilarious honestly.

“You’re _mages_?! Like actual fucking mages?” He’s all sputtery when he talks, funny as hell.

“Genuine as they up and come, brother.” Kurloz speaks up before he can, kicking off the wall and coming forward. “Now are we done with this motherfucking farce? I think it’s time for you to up and go.” He turns to Gamzee, face like stone, and he doesn’t say “ _You are in so much motherfucking trouble little brother just you wait till dad gets home_ ” but Gamzee hears it anyway. Shit.

“More than happy to.” Karkat says, looking pissed again. “Except, yanno, I’m not the one who summoned me here, so I don’t exactly have that fucking ability, do I?”

Gamzee blinks. “Oh, well uh.” he doesn’t fucking want to send his glowy red bro back just yet, man. This ain’t fucking fair. “... how do I do that?”

Karkat stares. Kurloz stares. The ipod in the corner finishes its playlist and starts spitting out rap metal. Shit gets awkward.

"You don’t know how to send him back?"

"You don’t know how to send me back?!"

It’s like listening to life of stereo, Kurloz and Karkat both turn and glare at each other, all motherfucking affront and offence.

"Ain't got the foggiest. Book just said to bring you here."

That wasn’t the right answer, Gamzee figures, if the way they both go pissed of quiet and shock still is any kind of indication. Karkat’s got another little red vein on the other temple, kinda hidden up under his hair, matching its twin on the other side. Pulse-pulse-pulse-pulse. Kurloz don’t got those angry veins, but Gamzee knows his brother and the quiet way he rages. There’s a shiver in the air.

“What. Book.” Karkat grits out, and he’s looking all around the basement now, looking at the rings on the floor and the funny little signs what the book said to draw out. He’s glowing brighter, throbbing like a heartbeat. Pulse pulse pulse. Something hypnotizing about that light, like open arms, like a beckoning voice. Gamzee feels his magic, his soul, inching forward, wanting to be closer, to be connected, a part of it. “What. Book. Did you use.”  
Kurloz must feel it too, because he’s creeping across the floor, trying to get between Gamzee and Karkat. His back is a flag pole, his shoulders steel beams. Like if he lets himself bend he’ll topple over, closer, into that red light.

Gamzee ain’t afraid. Figures he probably should be, but he ain’t. Being part of something ain’t a thing to fear.

“The one I done showed you.” He says, and hold up the book again instead of stepping out of the circle. Even he knows that’d be dumb. Its got a dozen of symbols on the cover in a big old circle, round some spiraly business that gets all trippy when you look at it. There’s no title or nothing, just the symbols. Kurloz is looking over his shoulder, but he isn’t turning his back on Karkat and he isn’t stepping out from between them. Kinda sweet of him. look at his big bro, getting his protecting on.

Karkat's staring at the book with his eyebrows all crinkled. "Show me the page you got the ritual off of."

Gamzee does. Kurloz don't seem to happy with that, but he don't say nothing. Just keeps on making like a wall between Gamzee and Karkat. The page is pretty simple too. Got them weird ass words that shouldn't make sense but do, and a fancy ass diagram of the circles and all that shit. Seemed clear enough when he was checking it out, at least.

Apparently it fucking wasn't, because Karkat stares all open mouthed at the paper and then his light dims, the weird ass feeling of _come here_ fades away, and he gets real shaky down on his knees. Woah.

"Hey now brother, you alright?" Gamzee goes to reach for him, but Kurloz makes a warning sound and puts his arm out, still not moving. That's a little annoying. Bro looks freaked right the hell out, and Gamzee don't know what he fucked up this time but Karkat clearly ain't inclined to go killing anybody over it. In fact, motherfucker looks like what he really needs is a hug.

"Bro? You good?" Gamzee stays in the circle, to get Kurloz off his back, but he creeps to the edge and kinda leans a little. His brother gives him a couple sharp little looks for that, but forreal? Overprotective big sibs are the worst. He's got this, its cool.

Karkat's shaking his head though, slow tired shakes back and forth. His shoulders are all slumped. Aw hell, poor dude, he really needs that hug.

"Karkat? Man, words would be real motherfucking appreciated. What'd I do?"

The demon looks up, growling "Did you even read the fucking book?!" He shouts, and he glowing anymore but he seems real pissed and maybe kinda scared. Shit ain't fair though, Gamzee's dumb but he ain't that fucking stupid, course he read the damn book.

"Cover to motherfucking cover. What the fuck does it matter?"

"What does it-- ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!!"

Kurloz steps on in again, but Karkat ain't yelling anymore. He's pacing in his little circle, making pissed off noises to himself what might be words. He talks with his hands, sharp little gestures. Everything about the brother seems sharp, like it's all making up for the round little horns and round little and the cute ass little chub on his belly. Now and then he turns a bit and the candlelight will catch off his eyes. They look redder than they did before, shiny-wet.

Fingers snap in front of his face, and Kurloz makes a couple quick hand gestures of his own. Gamzee glances down at the circle, then shrugs and hands over the book.

His brother don't read all of it, no time for that, but he skims over the pages about the ritual and the symbols, checks the symbols 'round Karkat and reads up on those pages specifically. Its funny how he blinks a bit at first, like his brain is all telling himself he shouldn't know these words, but that ain't stopping him from knowing them. He reads real fast, and it only takes him minutes to flick through all the generic important pages, the piercings through his lips catching candlelight when he moves his mouth in silent shapes along with the words.

Karkat stops pacing and stares a little, and fuck yeah, hugs, a real big good ass hug. Shit, Tav after his accident didn't need as many hugs as this bro does. (That might be an exaggeration. But like, only by a real tiny ass bit. Forreal.)

Karkat keeps on staring, and Kurloz keeps on reading, and the iPod in the corner gets all the way through The Gray Chapter and switches to some dubstep shit he's been into lately. It's a weird couple minutes. And then Kurloz makes a sound like he's choking or laughing or, fuck, maybe crying? Real hoarse kinda squeaky noise and Gamzee starts a little and his bro holds up the book in the candle light and glares.

"There's pages missing."

... ayup, that is sure as shit what he's looking at. They were ripped out real clean and careful like, so as to make neat, barely-there little lines up at where the pages come together, but with how Kurloz holds the book you can just barely kinda see 'em. Hm. Guess that's that problem up and explained then. That still don't do much to help with--

“So can you send me home or not?” Karkat growls, apparently done with being quiet. He looks less and less angry by the motherfucking minute, and more and more like pretending to be angry is about all as is keeping him from breaking down. Aw, fuck, look at that. Look at what he did. Thats gotta be his worst fuck up yet, shit. Shit shit.

“... _Baba_ might.” Gamzee says, because at least it’s something and well, shit, it’s true alright. If anybody could figure this shit out, it’s his dad. Kurloz is nodding, so he must agree.

“Ok, so go fucking call them or something. Go talk to whoever that is and fucking fix this.” Karkat looks like he’s trying real hard not to be hopeful. Gamzee feels his chest get all tight and sad.

“Not that motherfucking simple.” Kurloz says before he gets a chance to, and Karkat gets prickly mad again all at once.

“Well why the fuck not?!”

“He’s on a business trip.” Kurloz shrugs. “He won’t be home for a couple weeks.”

“So fucking-- _call him_! You have cellphones don’t you?!”

“Sure. But like hell are we risking getting tapped by some hunter.”

Karkat pauses at that, blinking. “You guys still have hunters?”

Kurloz gives him a sharp look. “There will always be hunters.”

“... Yeah.” Karkat deflates a little. “Yeah, ok, so. What the fuck now?”

Gamzee looks at Kurloz, who shrugs and flips through the book again, then hands it back. He starts signing once his hands are free, and Gamzee pays close attention, kinda confused.

“You sure about that shit, bro?”

Kurloz nods, and Gamzee shrugs, and Karkat’s back to looking pissed off. Damn, brother has some kinda anger management issues.

“Alright motherfucker. Uh. I guess I’m giving you some orders.”

Karkat flinches all over at that, ducks his head and goes from angry right back to about to cry, holy fuck, how’s he do that?

“Yeah so uh… I guess like. Don’t up and hurt nobody, and you gotta stay close and out of sight. Um.”   
Kurloz keeps signing, and Gamzee pays attention, nodding along.

“You can’t talk to nobody-- sorry brother, gotta keep our necks off the line, you know-- don’t break our stuff or go snooping through our shit, you can’t tell us no lies. Aw, bro, come on, ain’t that a little far?”   
Kurloz glares, makes quick, sharp gestures. Damnit.

“Yeah ok, ok, fuck. I get it. You ain’t allowed to leave our sight. You don’t get no privacy or nothing, gotta be with me or my brother all the time until we can send you back, and… and then when you’re gone you gotta stay gone and not ever come back or send nobody here either. Um, I think that’s it?”  
Kurloz nods, and shit gets all glowy and weird for the second time that night, heat and red light and wind, but it’s less scary with his brother here, and Gamzee can close his eyes real tight and wait for it to fade. It does, and when the world rights itself and cools on down the circles and whatnot that he had drawn all careful like are gone, and Karkat is staring with his mouth all wide open, showing all his sharp little teeth.

“... that’s it?”

“uh… yeah bro, looks like.”

He’s blinking a lot, kinda like he ain’t sure if he should mad or not. Bro really needs to toke up or something, damn.   
“That’s all you fucking want? Not “make this person do what we want” or “help us take over the world” or, I don’t know, “tell us a joke”?!”

“Well hey now if you got jokes--”  
“I don’t have any fucking jokes!”

Gamzee pouts. “Well that right there is a motherfucking tragedy.”

Karkat gets to looking like all his big, loud words went and clogged up his throat, can’t get no talking done. He just kinda opens and closes and opens his mouth a bunch of times and keeps right on staring, like a fish all pulled up out of the water and trying to get its breath on. Shit thats hilarious.

“We’re finished here.” Kurloz says after a second, apparently not in a mood to stand around watching Karkat make his funny ass angry faces. “Follow me.”

He takes a step back and tilts his head and Karkat starts forward like he can’t stop himself, then stops, turns and picks up the little hermit crab in it’s little tank. Aw shit, Gamzee didn’t even think about why he might want it, he’s not gonna. like, eat it or nothing, is he?

No, no he’s cool. He’s just picking the tank and the book both up and bringing them with him. His face is all scrunchy and he’s mumbling to himself in words Gamzee doesn’t know, and some part of him tenses up, whispers he’s casting a spell but there’s no magic to the words besides the magic Karkat pours off all natural-like, and Gamzee lets that impulse go. Brother ain’t no threat to him. Not now, anyway.

When he starts to follow, Kurloz glares like a motherfucker and gestures around the basement. Gamzee slumps.

“Aw c’mon bro, can’t I do that shit tomorrow? It's so fucking late and all…”

No ok that face is fucking answer enough. Jeeze.

“Alright, alright I’ll clean up. Fuck.”

Karkat’s looking all nervous and worried and shit from Gamzee to Kurloz and back, so Gamzee gives him a real big ass smile and a wave, and then Kurloz is shepherding him up the stairs and through the door (and shooting some real nasty-ass looks over his shoulder, motherfucker he’s so goddamn pissy sometimes) and they’re out of sight.

The basement is a mess. There’s paint and melted wax on the floor, wine spilled all fucking everywhere, and scorch marks around the circle Karkat had shown up in.

His ipod switches to some really shitty ass electronic stuff he doesn’t remember downloading.

Fuck this is gonna be a pain in the ass.

Gamzee gets to cleaning.

He’s in a shit ton of trouble, he didn’t plan this shit out near enough, and he’s got no fucking clue what he’s gonna get to doing about Karkat. This shit was far from motherfucking ideal. This was actually probably a real dumb ass decision on his part, in all fairness.

Still, Gamzee thinks, you gotta do what your heart tells you, and he figures the next few weeks or so are gonna be real damn entertaining at least.

… Assuming his dad doesn’t just kill his ass. Heh. That could happen too.

But that book didn’t come to him for no reason, and he figures picking Karkat out of all the fuckers listed there was for a reason too. Shit like this ain’t ever up to coincidence or random choice.

He can hear Kurloz and Karkat’s footsteps on the ceiling above him, moving around the kitchen. For all his bitchiness, his bro was raised right, same as him, and he’s getting his hospitality on as their baba made clear you were to do when you got a guest, even a guest you ain’t stoked to have. Thinking of them making pissed off faces at each other over a mug of tea is hilarious enough to have him snickering as he cleans up. Those two are gonna be a riot, fuck.

There’s something like anticipation in the air. Gamzee hadn't felt it before, but he feels it now. The smell of the sky before a storm, the still moment right before a wave hits the dock.

Something dangerous? Fuck, maybe. Maybe not. For fucking sure it's gonna be something _different_.

He’s honestly kinda looking forward to this shit.

  



	2. And Our Guilt Consumes Us

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry

It takes him a while to finish up the basement (those scorch marks were a fucking pain, goddamn) and by the time he gets to making his way up the stairs and into the house proper his knees are sore and his hands are achey and he swears on everything he knows that he ain't never listening to Hollywood Undead again so long as he fuckin lives (thats a lie, they fucking rock, but it's gonna be at least a couple days.)

Karkat and Kurloz are still at the table, and even pissed off at him his brother still went and set aside his favorite mug, the purple one with all them colored polka dots, and kept the kettle hot.

Gamzee grins tiredly at the both of them and gets to fixing himself some tea. Karkat's nursing his empty cup and looking all kinds of out of sorts. He probably been stuck in silence all this time while Kurloz dicked around on his phone doing fuck know what, and Gamzee feels a twinge of sympathy at the same time as he kinda wants to snicker. Good brother though he is, Kurloz takes some motherfucking getting used to, that's for damn sure.

Kurloz slides the sugar bowl closer to him as Gamzee sits down, looking up from his phone screen and clicking the lock button. It goes dark and he slides it into his pocket.

"So, what now?" Gamzee asks, looking at them both in turn. Kurloz sighs at him, the bitch.

"... you do fucking realize that you summoned me, right? I don't fucking know what now. Thats up to you." Karkat says, pissed and resigned and grumpy as all motherfuck. Oh, well then.

"I'm tired as fuck, bro." He says, and sips at his tea. Goddamn that's good. Gamzee's pretty good in the kitchen, can bake like a fancy french pastry making motherfucker, but you want tea, Kurloz is the one to ask. Goddamn. Gamzee grins at him real big to let him know its good, and Kurloz smiles back all pleased, his piercings glinting. "I'm gonna get my snooze on up in this beezy. How 'bout you, motherfucker?"

Karkat blinks them gem bright eyes. Then he blinks again. "You're going... to sleep."

"Fuck yeah bro,” Gamzee nods, “ 's ass o' clock and all. Ain't you tired?"

Hm. Actually, do demons need sleep? Or food, for that motherfucking matter. Gamzee can't see inside Karkat’s mug from here so there aint no telling if there's fuck all in it.

“I'm nocturnal.” Karkat says in answer. “it's the middle of the day for me.”

Huh.

“Well I ain't, bro.” Gamzee takes another slow sip of his tea, god that's good. “And this motherfucker needs some shut eye. Um. You got, like, any hobbies or something you could get to entertaining your bad self with while I'm knocked, or…?”

Karkat must think he's real strange, cause hell I'd he hasn't done a lot of blinking at him so far tonight. He's doing more right now. Blink blink. Gamzee just goes ahead and blinks right on back.

Kurloz huffs a faint little laugh and reaches out to ruffle his hair. Gamzee complains and kinda swats at him out of habit, but Kurloz just rolls his eyes and stands and stretches, up on his toes and fingers reaching up high and his skinny self all pulled up and out like taffy. Then he's settling back on his feet with a little sigh and his neck and shoulders all rolling and his eyes all lidded and tired and vague. Gamzee stands up without asking if he's heading to bed, just let's his big brother wrap him up in his arms and gives him a squeeze back, pats his back a little as an apology for basically the whole motherfucking night. Kurloz slumps kinda like now that somebody else is holding his weight he's considering just motherfucking flopping and making Gamzee carry his bony ass on up to bed. Gamzee digs his knuckles into Kurloz ribs, and his brother jerks away and snorts and cuffs him upside the head.

“Night, bro.” Gamzee says, rubbing absently at his ear where Kurloz thwacked him good.

“Goodnight, little brother.” And Kurloz heads on off into the dark of the house to get to his room, and Gamzee is alone in his kitchen with Karkat. He pours himself another cup of tea and skimps on the sugar cause it's late, then he reaches out and grabs Karkat’s mug too. There's the dredges of the cup Kurloz poured him all sitting at the very bottom, but Gamzee doesn't know if Karkat drank it because he wanted to or because he figured he didn't up and have the motherfucking choice.

“Want another cup, bro?” He asks. “You can say no, s’all good.”

Karkat shifts a little, all hesitating sorta. “Sure.” He says, and then “... thanks.” like he needs to remind himself like that's what you're s’posed to get to saying. Damn that’s cute, motherfucker’s all out of sorts.

Gamzee pours him another cup and lets him get to doing his own cream and sugar. “Forreal though, brother, I need sleep, and seeing as how my dumb ass dragged you up here in the first place I'd hardly feel right leaving you to fend for yourself all the motherfucking night long and all.”

Karkat finishes up his tea-making and pulls his mug in close again. He's got these cute pointy ears that flick just a little, making him look like a confused kitten. Gamzee don't really figure he'd up and appreciate being told that, though, so he don't say it out loud.

“I could read the book.” Karkat says. “It's what I would be doing right now anyway.” He don't look up from his cup when he says it, and he sounds grumpy, but Gamzee can't tell if it's because he's stuck here or because he doesn't want to be giving out info about himself.

“You read?” Gamzee asks, kinda stupid. Karkat gives him a real nasty ass look.

“What, you feculent twat smear, you figure I'm stupid or something? Why the fuck else would the book be included in summoning me?”

He shrugs. “Nah, bro, ain't like that. Just figured it was symbolic or some shit. Guess I didn't put too much thought into why you'd be wanting that stuff.”

Suddenly, a thought makes in self known to him, all curious like. “Hey, why’d you want that little hermit crab?”

Brother gets all kinds shifty and pissed off looking and, is that a blush? Hard to tell when he's already all lit up red, but fucking hell it might be, face just a little brighter than it was before.

“They're my patron animal.” He says, glowering.

“Your pat what?”

Karkat snarls. “They're fucking symbolic ok? I am the crab. The crab is me. Go screw yourself.”

Huh. Crabby. Yeah, Gamzee can see it. Don't really get it, but shit. He ain't a motherfucking demon.

“S’cool, bro.” Gamzee finishes up his tea, feeling sleeper with each sip. Finally his mug is empty and he looks up to check Karkat’s is too. “You all set brother?”

Karkat nods.

“Bed time then, C’mon.” Gamzee stands and does the same stretch Kurloz had done, fingers splayd and back arched, rocking up onto the balls of his feet. He grabs both mugs and drops them in the sink with the rest of the day's dirty dishes to be taken care of tomorrow morning, and waves for his demonic houseguest to follow him.

Karkat don't stretch, and he doesn't say a word, but he does mumble a little in the language he was bitching in earlier as he snags up the book and gets to following.

When they get to the stairs he goes “Wait, shit, the crab?” and Gamzee shrugs.

“He's all set for the night, got the tank all pimped out comfy for the little pinchy motherfucker, and we keep the house pretty warm. Whole family gets cold easy as fuck. You wanna bring him up with us anyhow?”

Karkat hesitates and glowers, and then he bustles off to grab the tank and the little guy in it, and then he's coming back and they're heading on up.

They're quiet as hell getting their way on past Kurloz’s room. Ain't no way he's asleep yet, but it's still the polite thing to motherfucking do. Gamzee points out “our bathroom, dad’s room, dad’s bathroom, guest room, sunroom” as they go, and then he's opening up the door to his own bedroom and flicking on the light.

When Gamzee was little, he didn't know he was rich. He'd figured most kids lived a life pretty close to his, ‘cept for the magic thing of course. He knows better now. Got his financial privilege squared right the hell away.

The overhead light is a custom he'd designed himself and then his baba had commissioned from some famous glasswork artist, all twisting, spiraling shapes that look kinda like tree roots or tentacles or tendrils of colored smoke, stretching up over a good half the ceiling, bigger and brighter than most lights by far. From around and between his posters the walls are painted white and smeared with all fucking colors in bendy, twisty threads like ink in water, opaque and transparent and layered all over each other, ‘cept around his bed where they look real dark blue. He's got art shit and gaming shit and stim toys and even some school shit all fucking everywhere, and there's beanbag chairs tossed around and a big ass set of windows, latched now, that open up onto a little balcony. He got a hammock bed that's more like a giant ass cushion all suspended from the ceiling with thick, heavy duty chains, covered in pillows and blankets and more random crap and everything's all patterned and colorful and lit up real bright.

Karkat kinda stops and stands still and blinks a lot when Gamzee ushers him in, and Gamzee grins and goes to clear off space on his desk where he can put the little crab for the night. Karkat's still all looking around befuddled when he finishes stacking books and art supplies, so he reaches out to take the tank from him. That gets Karkat's glowing red eyes trained on his face all sudden like, his body gone all stiff and tense, and Gamzee feels shitty all over again. Yeah, having the dude who dragged your ass up here and who basically owns you go grabbing at you all sudden like is probably real motherfucking scary. Gamzee takes a step back.

“Let's go and and get the little motherfucker up and set for the night, yeah? Then I can get some Z’s and you can get some reading.”

Karkat keeps on staring a bit, but he hustles on over and puts the tank down in the space Gamzee cleared for it before looking around some more. Gamzee doesn't have a couch or nothing, but the balcony got a chair on it. Though that maybe ain't the best bet, since Karkat's gonna end up having to sleep some time. Gamzee could invite him to share the bed, but figures his new friend will probably get the wrong idea. Best to not.

“Hey bro, how about we set you up a bitching blanket nest on the floor? Can build it up real comfy so’s it's basically a bed, if you wanna.”

Karkat gets to shuffling and frowning a bit. “Didn't you say you were going to sleep?”

“Fuck yeah, but a few minutes more won't hardly hurt me none. C’mon, help me clear us up some space.”

Karkat hops to. Gamzee winces. “That uh. Was more a request than an order. I ain't gonna, like, be an asshole at you for not jumping at my every motherfucking beck and call.”

A blink, all disbelieving like, kinda suspicious.

“Sure.” Karkat says, real slow.

He don't stop clearing shit, but he stops being so vigorous about it and starts just kinda kicking shit outta his way. Gamzee grins at him and starts shoving stuff under his bed. They make a decent patch of the carpet that's got no stuff on it cept, well, them, and Gamzee figures it's big enough for such a little thing like Karkat, and anyhow any more poking at his stuff and he's gonna start thinking he should maybe actually just clean his damn room, which, yeah, no.

“Bitchtits. Let's go get shit.”

He leads his demon back out of his room and to the guestroom down the hall, still quiet as all fuck, and flicks on the light. He grabs up pillows and the quilted comforter and then nabs another thick blanket out of the closet, and then frowns at his armful, kinda overstuffed with shit to carry.

“Oh for fucks sake.” Karkat surprises him by saying, and holds out his arms, looking uncertain and determined. “Just give me the stuff you can't carry, there's two of us here. Don't be stupid.”

Gamzee grins and hands off the blanket and two of the pillows, so they're even. Karkat offered, so he guesses, that makes it ok? Just so long as he keeps shit fair and all. Right? Right.

They shuffle back to his room and drop their bounty on the floor, and Gamzee starts knocking shit off his bed. He got enough layers of crap for like six beds, and he usually just kinda flops on top of it and builds himself a little nest out of blankets and pillows and shit, but this ain't no big deal. He can go out and get Karkat his own shit tomorrow, maybe an air mattress or some shit, but this'll do for now.

“Alright, how you comfiest, my brother? I'll set this bitching blanket fort up to your most precise specifications.”

“I can do it.” Karkat replies, and Gamzee frowns at him.

“You ain't gotta bro, I can help out with this shit. It ain't even a thing.”

Wait, huh. Karkat's getting glowy again. He mad? Nnnnnnnno, he's looking all far away and scowling kinda. He's blushing. That's cute as hell. He gets to tearing at the blankets and shit.

“I can fucking do it myself, it'll be faster, fuck. Just go the fuck to sleep already, you obnoxious, stubborn shit juggler.”

“I can juggle like a ninja, my bro, but I ain't never tried it with shit before.”

“Oh my god.” Karkat glares like he thinks he's crazy. It's funny as fuck the way he's staring all aghast and offended (so much better than scared.) “You are _completely missing the point_ you dense puke buffoon. Despite your apparent misconception I am fully fucking capable of making a decent pile, regardless of whatever erroneous opinion has taken root in your woefully inadequate human brain, so fuck you and fuck your Very Wrong opinion you barf guzzling tit fondler.”

Wow. Motherfuckers wordy when he gets started. Puke buffoon? Tit fondler? What even?

“if you’re fucking sure, bro…”

“Yes I am fucking sure holy shit _go away.”_

Gamzee laugh and goes away. He can't leave Karkat out of his sight, so he can't go into the bathroom go change, but he got a closet plenty big enough to step into and move around. He sheds his boots at the door, kicks off his jeans and t-shirt and pulls on some pj pants with smiley faces on them and comes shuffling out to drop his clothes in the hamper.

Karkat kinda eyes him without trying to look like he's eyeing him. Gamzee notices, hunches, and ducks out of his line of sight to pull on a shirt.

Karkat's putting the last touches on his blanket nest, and looks pretty much all set to himself, ‘cept…

“You want some shit to change into, bro?” Gamzee asks, already slipping into bed. It sways a bit under him, makes him feel like floating on the ocean. Karkat shakes his head and keeps fucking with his pile.

“No, I brought stuff.”

…. Gamzee don't see no stuff. Still, of a brother don't wanna wear his clothes, he don't wanna wear his clothes. Gamzee ain't gonna begrudge a motherfucker for that. He'll just have to remember to buy him clothes tomorrow too.

“Alright, you all motherfucking set, brother?”

Karkat waves him off and goes and gets his book, and Gamzee shrugs and grabs the remote from off his nightstand. The lights go _beep_ and fade out, and the glow in the dark galaxies he's got painted on the blue around his bed all start to shine, and Karkat makes the room warm and red. He's already got himself settled down and his book open. All right then.

“Goodnight, brother.” Gamzee says.

“..... Goodnight.”

He grins to himself and closes his eyes and slips off to sleep.

* * *

Gamzee wakes up a few hours later, and doesn't know why. At first he figures maybe it's the way his charm has gone all warm against his chest, going _thrummm_ with… something. Then he thinks it's probably the red light in his room, kinda going all pulse pulse pulse like a really weak ass strobe light. Then he hears the tiniest little sniff, and he knows what woke him up.

His demon is crying. Karkat's on his pile on the floor making tiny, broken noises and trying so hard not to make a sound. His grief and fear are palpable, Gamzee's magic sings inside him at the way Karkat's emotions diffuse through the room like incense smoke scented with homesickness and melancholy.

Oh fuck, fuck, he fucked up so bad. Gamzee clenches his jaw and his eyes and balls his blanket up in his fists. Oh man, how did he mess something up this bad? How did he not fucking think before he went around tearing people up out of their lives and their homes and dragging them out to, what? What the fuck did he even want this for? What the fuck is _wrong with him_?

Karkat makes the tiniest, saddest little sound, half-muffled by the pillow he's using to try to smother himself, and Gamzee is up and throwing his blankets off and crossing the room in the next second, his heart in his throat.

Karkat jumps and snarls and stares at him, up on his feet and eyes glowing and teeth all bared and Gamzee doesn't even look at the fangs before he's pulling the demon into his arms hauling him close.

“Sorry.” He says with voice gone wet and thick with guilt. Karkat is a statue of heated steel against him, unyielding and sharp and just this side of too hot to touch. “M’sorry, bro, I'm so motherfucking sorry but we're gonna get you back ok, I motherfucking promise, I'm gonna fix this shit ok I'm gonna make it right.”

He has to break off to sob, trying to make words when you're crying ain't easy. Karkat still ain't moving, but his growling cut off and he's gone limp and still in Gamzee’s arms. Just still and not moving and letting himself be held, and Gamzee rubs his back a little bit, squeezes him a little tighter, keeps muttering shit about apologies and how he's gonna make amends.

Karkat ain't crying no more, probably more out of shock than actually feeling better, but Gamzee can still feel hot, wet tears on his shoulder where he got Karkat pressed close and it makes him cling a little. He doesn't know how to fix this or say he's sorry, doesn't know how to make this shit right, but he's gonna figure it out. He will.

Having no clue what else to do, he gives one last desperate squeeze to Karkat and lets him go.

His tears are faintly lit pinkish stains on Gamzee’s t shirt, like he broke open a red glowstick but kinda washed it out some before spilling it. They make awful bloody lines down Karkat’s cheeks. For a stupid motherfucking second, Gamzee wants to wipe them away. But no more tears are falling and Karkat don't know him well and anyway that's it, the moments over and done with. There's no more shit to say right now.

Slowly, reluctantly, Gamzee turns and slinks back to his bed.

“Goodnight, Karkat.” He says, and burrows back under the blankets, feeling sick. His face is all sticky and gross from the salt of his tears, his throat and eyes all aching. His chest feels hollow.

“.... yeah. Goodnight.”

Karkat settles back down on his pile and don't stop glowing, and Gamzee buries his head under a pillow and squeezes his eyes shut to get away from that red light, can't bare to look at it, can't even motherfucking _endure_ that shit.

It takes him hours to fall back to sleep, and when he does he doesn't dream. If Karkat starts crying again, he doesn't hear it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yooooooooo shout out to Shyeinc over on tumblr for this beautiful fanart hooooly crap look at this http://shyeinc.tumblr.com/post/134039499113/this-fanfic-is-interesting-tbh-you-can-see-i-gave  
> Everybody go tell them they're amazing and also Shyeinc if you're reading this you're amazing and ilu and I can't believe someone actually drew for my dumb story thank you so much

**Author's Note:**

> This has not been abandoned!!! Unfortunately some shit went down with the author's meds right at the same time as quite a bit of Real Life Drama was happening and I haven't had the mental energy or physical time to dedicate to any of my writing projects. My meds are stabilizing and things are calming down now, so I should hopefully be back to writing in a month or so. Thank you for your patience!
> 
> For chapter teasers, updates and musings, go here: http://thisisallthehattersfault.tumblr.com/


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